


Everybody Screamed When I Touched The Time Drive

by AFailedButterfly



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Best Friends, Fluff and Angst, Gen, My First Fanfic, Other, RipFic, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 18:16:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15563640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AFailedButterfly/pseuds/AFailedButterfly
Summary: When Phil Gasmer arrives in Los Angeles he is rewarded with two things:1. A broken leg2. A new friend named George Lucas. In the following years, this unlikely pair will try to survive film school, make a movie out of Phil's weird dreams, get high and figure out why so many insane people want to hurt Phil and steal his useless piece of wood.





	1. I am a traveller of both time and space

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo. This is my very first fanfiction ever, please forgive me if there are any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors. I have not found a beta reader yet. 
> 
> I wrote this fic simply because I enjoy Phil and wanted to explore his friendship with George.

When Rip first arrived at the Refugee he had often been plagued with nightmares. He had dreamt of slowly freezing or starving to death in some alleyway with nobody to care about him. He dreamt about Jessica and his broken promise to her and about the death of his birth mother. Occasionally he even dreamt about Steven, the first person he had ever killed. The nightmares hadn’t been as frequent when he lived on the street, he had always collapsed from exhaustion at the end of every night and had bearly dreamt at all. And when he did, he always dreamt about living somewhere where he was safe and had enough food, but once he finally got all of that, all of his terrible memories came crashing down like waves during a storm.

His mother had always been there every time he had a bad dream. She would hold his hand and whisper soothing words, assuring him that he was okay, that he was safe. When Rip finally calmed down she would give him a glass of warm milk and gently run her hand through his hair until he fell asleep. Sometimes the nightmares were so scary that Rip had been afraid to sleep again, those were the nights when his mother picked up books and read for him, or even told stories about brave time masters who valiantly protected the timeline. One night, after a particularly bad dream Rip, had asked her to explain the time drive to him, a word he had heard Druce use after dropping off another kid.

”It’s what powers the timeship dear”, she had explained sounding a bit amused ”Without it, you can’t travel through time. It is highly dangerous though. You must never touch it, that could kill you. Promise me that you will never touch it”,

And Rip had promised. During the years, don’t touch the time drive had become a mantra to him. It was the last thing his mother had told him before he left for the academy, his teachers had stressed the importance of it and even Druce had told it to him after Rip got his first mission. Years later, Rip had tried drilled the same lesson into Jax's head. Yet here he was standing in a ship that was falling apart him, about to use the time drive as a means of time travel. He was scared. He had no idea what would happen, he could end up anywhere in time or he could die. Rip couldn’t help but think about how angry his mother would be if she heard that he died because he broke the first promise he ever gave to her. His grip tightened around the spear of destiny, the very fabric of reality depended on his ability to protect his piece. And he had to do it, no matter what the cost may be.

”Angels and ministers of grace defend us”, he prayed before finally touching the time drive. _I’m sorry mother_ was the last thing he thought before everything went black.

* * *

 

It had been unbearably hot for the entire weekend. George had bought himself a fan and opened every window in his tiny apartment but he still felt as if he were trapped inside an oven. He was currently sitting on his couch with a cold beer in his hand, trying to find something to watch on tv which was proving to be difficult. He was just about to give up when the silent night was disrupted by a huge crash followed by an agonizing scream of pain. The sudden sound made George jump at least five feet in the air, spilling beer all over the couch and the floor.

”Help”; a weak voice called outside of George’s living room ”Please help me. I have broken my leg”.

If asked about it later George would say that he spent five seconds considering that it might have been some kind of trap to lure him out of the apartment. He certainly wouldn’t say that he immediately sprinted to his phone to call an ambulance before rushing out of the door, almost forgetting to lock his door. George’s father had always told him that you should always help a person in need, whether it was a friend or a complete stranger, no matter the circumstances. So George rushed out in the alleyway, not noticing that he had forgotten to put on a pair of shoes until his bare feet touched the scolding warm pavement. George was distracted by that detail when he saw the person that had called out for help earlier a few feet in front of. It was a rather young man, with a rather odd haircut and a well-kept beard. He was wearing some sort of weird cowboy outfit and was clutching a piece of wood in his left hand as if his life depended on it. But the man’s strange appearance didn’t distract George from the fact that the man was lying sprawled on the pavement with his right leg bent in a very unnatural angle.

”Hello”; George called softly. The stranger looked up, his face was filled with cuts and bruised and there were tears in his eyes. ”I have called an ambulance for you”; the strangers' gaze went to George’s bare feet and he suddenly felt very stupid for forgetting his shoes.

”Can you”; the man said with a shaky voice ”Can you wait with me until it arrives. Please”; George really wanted to go back in and put on a pair of shoes, but he couldn’t just leave an injured person alone on a sidewalk when he had just begged him to keep him company. _Why did this happen to me of all people_  George thought as he crossed the distance between them. He briefly thought about helping him to a sitting position but quickly realized that he wasn’t nearly strong enough. In the end, he just sat down next to the stranger, with a thousand questions swirling in his head.

How had the man gotten himself injured?

What was up with his clothing and why on earth was he holding a useless piece of wood in his hands?

But it would probably be rude to bombard him to with question so he just sat there in silence thinking about what he was going to say.

”My name is George Lucas”; was what he ended up saying after a few minutes of awkward silence

”I’m Philip Gasmer”; the man offered ”But my friend calls me Phil”. ”Nice to met you Phil”; George said with a smile as the sound of sirens filled the night.


	2. You're losing your memory now

"My name is George Lucas".

The voice sounded far away to Rip as if the person was standing on the other side of a wide field and was screaming at him through a megaphone.

He knew that he should offer his own name in return but he suddenly found it difficult to do so. 

What was his name?

He had had no problem with answering that question in the past.

My name is... is.. Rip Carter.

No. No that wasn't right. That wasn't his name.

My name is.... Michael Hunter and I am captain of the...

Captain of the what?

Did he own a boat?

He didn't remember owning a boat.

Focus. He needed to focus.

Maybe his surroundings could help him remember something. He slowly opened his eyes but quickly had to close them again when a bright white light blinded his vision.

That light reminded him of something, but what?

His stun device! It had admitted the same bright light when he had kidnapped his dear legends.

What were their names?

Sara Lance

Jax Jackson

Martin...

Or was it perhaps Marcus?

Yes. Marcus something.

There were more or them.

He was sure of that but he struggled to remember their names or who they were.

Wait. How did he know these people again??

He had recruited them. Recruited them to.....

To do what?

Save Miranda and Jonas.

Why?

He didn't know anybody with those names.

Why couldn't he remember anything!

He clenched his fists in frustration and felt something sharp pierce his hand.

The spear! His piece of the spear of destiny.

He protected it with the JSA.

Charles McNider

Hank...

Why was he thinking of random names?

He wished that Gideon was there.

Gideon.

That name sounded familiar.

Gideon was his best friend, his comstant companion.

Gideon was...

A really weird name...

_Man I sure have wierd ass thoughts when I'm drunk._

"My name is Philip Gasmer"; he said "But my friends call me Phil"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I chose Sara, Jax and Martin as the legends Rip briefly remembers because I felt that he had the closest connection to those three. It is not a slight against the other team members, it just made the most sense to me.


	3. This could be the start of something new

George didn't like to wait. It had always made him a bit anxious because when he waited his mind always came up with worst case scenarios. A nurse entered the room and George looked up in hope but she just rushed by without even glancing in his general direction. George slumped back in his chair, he had been sittning there for three hours and absolutely nothing had happened. But George couldn't bring himself to leave. Phil had looked absolutely terrified when he was loaded into the ambulance. It was that look that had led to George putting on a pair of shoes, taking the bus to the hospital and sitting in an uncomfortable chair. He didn't want Phil to be alone. Besides Phil had dropped his piece of wood and George figured that he should give it back to him. 

"Mr. Lucas", the same nurse that had rushed by earlier had reentered the room and was smiling kindly at him. "Mr. Gasmer can see you now". George sighed in relief and stiffly got out of the chair. His back and but was hurting like shit after sitting for so long. He would have to smoke a joint when he came home.

"Is Phil alright miss?" George asked as he followed the nurse through a seemingly never ending maze of hallways and closed doors.

"Mr. Gasmer has two bruised ribs, his right leg is boken and his left hand is sprained. He also have a concussion which makes it difficult for him to remember exactly what exactly happened to him. You didn't happen to see the accident by any chance?"

"No. No I just heard a crash and then he was calling for help". The nurse just nodded in response. After a few moments she stopped infront of a door that looked exactly like all of the other doors that they had passed. She opened the door and ushered him in before closing it behind him. Phil was lying on the bed with his leg wrapped in a cascet. He looked miserable.

"Hi George", he said with a weak smile "Nice of you to visit"

"How are you feeling", George asked as he sat down on the chair next to the bed.

"Terrible", Phil said. "This is not how I wanted my first day in Los Angeles to go. But I can't say I am suprised, I have the worst luck", he added with a self deprecating laugh. George didn't know what to answer so instead he settled for telling the story of how he set fire to his first apartment on his second day of living there because he tried to cook. It seemed to brighten Phil's mood as he laughed quite a bit.

"Thank you", he said after George was finished with his story before closing his eyes. After a few moments he started to snore. George got up from the chair and left the room, closing the door quitly on the way out. He needed to sleep for atleast ten hours to get over this ordeal.

It wasn't untill he was almost asleep that he remenberd that he forgot to give Phil his piece of wood back.

* * *

Phil turned out to be a very nice and funny person.

At first George only visited because he wanted to return the piece of wood. But when it became clear that he didn't have anybody else that visited him George came beacus he felt sorry for him. It didn't take long for George to start enjoying Phil's company and found himself looking forward to visiting him. Phil was a suprisingly easy person to talk to, he listened attentivly to whatever George had to say as if it was the most interesting story he had ever heard. His claim about having the worst luck also turned out to be true as all of his stories seemd to end with him having some accident. George often left the hospital with tears of laughter in his eyes.

* * *

 

It was a very warm and sunny monday when George realized that he considered Phil to be his friend. They had spent the afternoon playing cards and plotting revenge on George's neighbours downstairs that always had super loud sex at four in the morning. When he came home that evening hos mother called and George told her all about Phil.

"It sounds like you have made a friend"

"I have"

* * *

 

"They are finally going go release me from the hospital today", Phil declared with a grin when George arrived.

"That's great", George exclaimed. "You must be thrilled"

"I am. I even managed to get myself a job here at the hospital"

"How?" George asked bewildred and a little bit jealous. It had taken him ages to find a job.

"You underestimate my power", Phil said in an overly dramatic voice that made George snort out a laughter. "But really wasn't that difficult. It's just a cleaning job. I do hope they let me crash here until I find än apartment" Phil added his smile faltering a bit. It took George two seconds to come to a decision.

"You could stay with me. I have an extra room. It would be nice to have some company and somebody to help with the rent"

"Really", Phil asked with vide eyes

"Yes. I mean we are friends Phil. Thats what friends are for". Phil smiled so wide that George thought his face would crack.

"Thank you. I promise that I will be a good roommate. I will pay my share of the rent in time and not get myself into too many accidents". 

"Whatever happens to you in the future cant possibly be worse than this" George said and they both burst out into giggles as the sun set. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Star Wars references count: 1


	4. And I'm missing you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man writing this chapter was hard!  
> I'm still not 100% satisfied with it but it's probably as good as it's going to get.

_"Greetings Captain Hunter. My name is Gideon. I am this ships artificial consciousness"_

_"Hello, Gideon. It's nice to meet you"_

_"Likewise Captain"_

_"You don't have to call me Captain. Rip is perfectly fine"_

_"That would be inappropriate"_

_"I'm certain that you will call me Rip when we become friends"_

.....

..

..

Gideon had never once called him Rip. It had always been for different reasons

She was supposed to have a professional relationship with her captains

She did it to tease him

She felt it would be disrespectful to call a person she held in such high regard by his first name

She did it out of fear. Fear that saying his name would give away how deeply she cared for him

How much she loved him

.....

..

..

_"Captain?"_

_"Yes Gideon"_

_"This is your third glass of scotch this evening. May I suggest that you stop. You will undoubtedly get drunk if you continue"_

_"That's the point. I want to forget"_

_"The wild west or Mr. Hex?"_  
  
_"I don't know what you are talking about"_

_"He is constantly appearing in your dreams captain._

_"Oh"_

_"Do you have feelings for him captain"_

_"Yes"_

_"I see"_

_"Will you tell the time masters?"_

_"There is nothing to tell"_

_"Thank you Gideon"_

.....

..

..

She was supposed to report to the time masters if her captain ever broke any rules

She had done so in the past

But it had always been different with Captain Hunter

He had always treated her as a friend 

Not as a computer

She hadn't wanted to lose him as captain and get somebody else who wouldn't respect her

So she lied for him

It wouldn't be the last time

.....

..

..

 

_"Gideon"_

_"Yes captain"_

_"I think I just made a big mistake"_

_"The time masters doesn't forbid sexual intercourse captain"_

_"I know. It's who I had it with that is the problem. Something Mr. Thawne said to me afterward made me realize that he might not be a good person."_

_"You might be right Captain. Here is how Mr. Thawne's future looks like"_

_"Oh bollocks. Gideon get us out of here now"_

_"Yes Captain"_

.....

..

..

Gideon had noticed a change in her captains' behavior after that day

He had been noticeably stressed and quit

He had disappeared for days and told Gideon he had visited his mother. It had been an obvious lie

He had even turned her off for the first time. Told her it was because of a maintenance problem

Another lie

When Gideon asked about it he just waved her concerns away

She couldn't help but wonder if whatever happened during those days had something to do with his disappearance

.....

..

..

_"What are you going to name the baby captain?"_

_"Jonas Gideon Hunter_ "

_"Gideon?"_

_"Yes. After my best friend in the world"_

.....

..

..

His best friend

A human shouldn't consider artificial intelligence as a friend

But he always did

During their fifteen years together he had always treated her as his equal

And now he was gone

He had disappeared before but she had always been able to locate him

She found him while searching the timeline

Or by visiting in his dreams

But now she couldn't find him.

She missed him terribly

She missed the nights where he would just talk about his day for hours

She missed the countless inside jokes they had together

The Legends were fine

She was fond of them

But they weren't her Captain

They hadn't spent years and years with her

She hadn't been there during every milestone of their lives

It wasn't because of them that she betrayed the time masters

It was because of Captain Hunter

The man she loved. 

Who was gone

Maybe even dead

.....

..

..

  
"Gideon"

"Yes, captain?"  
  
"Is Rip dead?"

"I don't know captain. It is certainly possible but it is also possible that he is alive"

"I miss him"

"As do I captain" 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three things:  
> 1\. I imagine that young Rip was a bit like Ray, very energetic and excitable. Hence the very upbeat conversation with Gideon at the start.
> 
> 2\. Jonah is Rip's ex and nobody can convince me otherwise.
> 
> 3\. Rip definitely have some sort of history with Eobard Thawne. Hence the latter's obsession with him


	5. Sweet dreams are made of this

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer:  
> I have no idea how a stoned person acts nor how drugs affect people. I will try to describe it as little as possible because I don't want to seem offensive or rude.

_It was quiet on the Waverider. It seemed that the team had finally fallen asleep at the same time. Rip sighed contently as he sipped a glass of the more finer whiskey that he kept well hidden from Mr. Rory. He loved his team he really did but he still very much enjoyed a break from their crazy antics_

_"_ _Drinking alone?"  
_

_"Just enjoying the quiet Miss. Lance. It's a privilege I don't get very often anymore"._

_"Rude", Sara said in a mock offended voice as she breezed past him and sat down on his desk. She poured herself a glass of whiskey without asking took a big sip. "Damn this is good stuff"  
_

_"Indeed", Rip said and took another deep gulp._  
  
_"Did you hide it in your secret armory". Rip almost choked on his drink and stared at Sara in bewilderment. How could she know about the armory? The only other person who knew about it was Gideon and she would never reveal it's location to anyone on the team._

_"Why did you keep so many secrets Rip. It's making it really hard to find you"._

_"Find me?" But Sara wasn't looking at him anymore, she was looking right through him with a faraway look in her eyes. She didn't seem to hear him._

_"Gideon have you found any trace of Rip yet"  
_

_"I'm afraid not"_  
  
"I'm right here" Rip exclaimed but as he said that the walls of the Waverider started to crumble around him. A bright light filled his vision and he felt himself being sucked away from the room

_"Sara", Rip yelled, "Sara help me", But Sara didn't hear him and suddenly Rip was falling and falling._

 

_..._

_...._

_.._

Phil flew up from the bed while breathing heavily. His heart was pounding in his chest and he was drowning in sweat. His eyes flickered around the room and he calmed down as he recognized the dark shapes of his furniture. It had just been another dream.  The dream had seemed so real. Most of his dreams did. Sometimes they were pleasant, sometimes violent and occasionally downright bizarre. A side effect of doing too many drugs had been George's theory when Phil had shared some of his dreams. That had to be the case. His dreams were just wild hallucinations caused by an acid trip _. But you didn't get high last nigh_ t. That didn't mean anything. It was just a dream. Nothing else. Phil forced himself out of bed and stumbled tiredly to the kitchen. George was already sitting at the table and drinking a big cup of coffee and eating scrambled eggs with bacon

"Good morning". Phil said with a hoarse voice as he poured himself his own cup of coffee

"You look like shit". George said 

"Thanks", Phil said dryly as he helped himself to a big portion of eggs

"Did you have another dream". Phil just nodded as he was too busy stuffing his face. 

"I have an idea", George declared after a few minutes of silence. Phil looked at him with apprehension, the last time George had an idea he had woken up naked in a bush with no clue how he got there.

"There is no need to look terrified this is a good one". 

"Yeah you said that last time"  
  
"I think you should apply to film school with me".   
  
"Are you high?". Phil exclaimed incredulously. 

"No. Just hear me out", George whined "Look. Your dreams are like super radical. They could make a good movie if you wrote them into a story. At least give it a try"

_..._

_...._

_.._

Phil lay awake that night thinking about what George had said. The idea of going to film school and making a movie of his drug-induced dreams seemed crazy but at the same time, he was a bit intrigued by it. His dreams truly did have some interesting characters in them. Like the thief who redeemed himself, or the young man who was desperate to leave a mark on the world. Maybe it could be something. Phil opened the drawer to his nightstand and took out his piece of wood. He didn't know why he kept it or why he even had it in the first place. It was the same with the duster he kept in his wardrobe behind all of his other clothes. He couldn't shake the feeling that they were somehow important. Maybe they could be used as props. Phil walked over to his desk and pulled out a pen and paper. He had everything at his disposal to make a good movie to didn't he? Phil smiled to himself and started to write

**Rip Hunter - Time traveler. Can manipulate time. Recruits the team. Loves Gideon**

**Carson - The solider. Can fly. Loves Kara**

**Kara - The warrior. Immortal Egyptian goddess. Can turn into a hawk. Loves Carson**

**Rick -The crook. Can create fire. Partners with Lawrence.**

**Lawrence - The Thief. Can create ice. Partners with Rick.**

**Richard - The Scientist. Has a magical suit that can shrink/grow in size. Fires electricity**

**Max -Th engineer. Becomes a ball of nuclear energy together with Marcus,**

**Marcus - The older scientist. **Becomes a ball of nuclear energy together with Max****

**Gideon - The robot who is very much human. Has telepathic abilities. Loves Rip**

**Sandra -  The HERO. Former assassin. Can teleport.  
**

**Vandal Savage - The villian. Immortal. Can summon meteors.**

**The spear of destiny - The MacGuffin**

Phil put down his pen and looked at his list. It was not a bad set of characters **.** Maybe he could do something great with this. To his surprise Phil found himself going to bed with newfound determination. He was going to make this movie.

_..._

_...._

_.._

"A female hero?" George wondered out loud as he read the list the next morning. "Isn't it better too, ya know, make Rip the hero. It's less controversial

"Come on George. Get with the times", Phil exclaimed as he munched on a piece of toast. Sandra stood out more than anybody in his dreams. He felt as if though he knew her personally. Sandra was lost and haunted by her past, yet found the strength to carry on and save the world. If that didn't make her the hero than Phil didn't know what did.

"Aren't there a bit too many characters"  
  
"Maybe. But they are all a vital part of the team, the story simply doesn't work without all of them". Phil hadn't even begun to write the story yet but he already knew that he couldn't remove a single member from the team he created last night.

"Dude are you really going to write a love story between a man and a robot"  
  
"She is human in his eyes". George stared at him with a puzzled look before apparently deciding to not question things

"What are you going to the movie"  
  
"Legends of Tomorrow", Phil answered with a grin.

It was time to become a film student. 

 

 


	6. A tale of two kitties

George was sitting at his desk and was trying to read through a book about film theory but he found himself unable to concentrate. Phil's shift at the hospital had ended an hour ago but he still hadn't come home and George was beginning to worry. Phil usually didn't take this long to come home even when he went grocery shopping after his shift was over. Maybe he had broken his leg again. Phil was incredibly clumsy and sometimes he managed to trip over his own feet so he wouldn't put it past him. Or maybe Phil had just been caught in the rain and was waiting for it to stop. George gave up on trying to concentrate and slammed the book shut. He made his way towards the living room and slumped into the couch. He put on the tv to try to distract himself from the pit of worry that was forming into his stomach. Suddenly he heard the unmistakable sound of Phil wrestling with his keys. George felt a pang of relief but it was quickly replaced with anger. He was going to murder him. He marched into the hallway just as Phil stumbled through the door.

”Where have you been”; George demanded. ”Do you have any idea how worried I have been. I thought you might have been injured or killed or.” George’s rant was interrupted by a sound that sounded suspiciously like a meow.

”Phil. Was that a cat”, Phil smiled sheepishly and pulled out two kittens from inside his drenched jacket. Two honest to god kittens. One orange and one grey.

”Somebody had left them in a box in an alley”, Phil explained ”I couldn’t just leave them there in the rain. I’m sorry that I scared you”

”You… you”, George took a deep breath and slowly counted to ten. ”And what do you suppose we do with them”  
”Keep them?” Phil asked with a hopeful smile.

When asked about it later George would tell people that he flat out refused and Phil had to work hard to convince him to keep the cats. He certainly wouldn't say that his heart melted the second the grey cat rubbed against his legs and he agreed without thinking about it.

"Okay fine", George exclaimed and if Phil's huge smile deflated his anger nobody would know about it. 

.....

..

..

"I am going to name this one Jonah", Phil commented some hours later while absentmindedly stroking the orange cats head while it purred contently.   


"That's an odd name for a cat",

"I know but the name feels important. Don't know why". George glanced at Phil. It wasn't the first time he had said that it usually happened when they were working on Phil's script together. Phil was very lenient when it came to accepting changes that George suggested but occasionally he would refuse to change a scene. When that happened he always struggled to explain why they couldn't change it. _It feels_ _important_ was normally not an excuse George would accept but watching his friend exasperation was enough to make him drop the argument. Phil was very well spoken so these small episodes of rambles worried George, especially when it happened when they weren't high. It made him wonder if Phil had some sort of amnesia and the characters in his script were exaggerated version people he used to know. 

"What do you want to name the grey cat", Phil asked snapping George out of his thoughts. He was probably just overthinking things, maybe Phil was just very protective of some of his ideas and just didn't know why. That was a much more likely than his crazy conspiracy theories about amnesia.

"How about Comet". 

"Rad"

.....

..

..

Keeping the cats turned out to be one of the best decisions George had ever made. It turned out that petting a purring cat was a very good way to calm nerves when stressed over school work. It seemed to be helping Phil too because petting Jonah seemed to help him explain why he didn't want to change some things in the script. The only downside to the cuddly new pets was the dead mice that Jonah and Comet started to bring as gifts when they were old enough to hunt. 

"You would think that we don't feed them enough", Phil exclaimed in a horrified voice when Comet arrived with a dead bird in his mouth looking extremely proud.

"It's a cat, Phil. What did you expect", George said in a weak voice.

"I need a joint", 

"It was you who wanted to keep them in the first place", George called after him in a teasing voice 

"You love them to", 

"Yeah I do"


	7. Let's get down to business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't know much about film school either, so I am going to skip to the day of the audition.

Phil was drumming his fingers against the table in anticipation. This was it. The day of the audition, the day he had worked years to get to. He had so many mixed feeling. Nervous, excited and absolutely terrified. What would happen if he didn't find any good actors? He hadn't even been able to find a costume designer yet. George thought that he was too picky but Phil was determined to find somebody who wouldn't put Sandra and Kara in absurdly sexist outfits. Phil didn't know many women but he was certain that no woman would fight in a crop top because that would lead to them getting shot in an instant. Phil knew that he couldn't be as picky with his actors since he had little to no budget but he was determined to find a good costume designer. 

"Are you ready for this", George asked and gave him an encouraging smile and gave his shoulder an encouraging squeeze. Phil honestly didn't know what he would do without George. He had been a constant support ever since he had crashed outside of his apartment, he had read through his script and come up with much constructive criticism but most importantly he had been a friend. Phil often struggled with remembering much about the life he had lived before the accident, which according to his doctor was due to him hitting his head too hard. But he couldn't have had that many friends or family since nobody had ever come looking for him. This had left him very hollow but George unbreakable friendship had helped him heal. He had wanted to make George his assistant director but George had made the argument that he was too close to the project to be objective. So Phil just made him his propmaster, which was a huge waste of his talents but Phil needed his support. 

"Not really but let's do this"

.....

..

..

And days later Phil didn't just need George's support. He needed to smoke a big joint or drop some really good acid. He had known that he couldn't get great actors but most of the people that had auditioned had been just terrible. Especially Peter Buchmann who had been the least terrible actor who auditioned for Vandal Savage but Peter was still as intimidating as a wet blanket but it wasn't all bad. Phil had managed to find actors of color to portray Kara and Max, an older actor to portray Marcus and Eliza Trey was perfect as Sandra. He actually had a full cast and crew. Phil could bearly contain his excitement. His dream was finally coming true and everything was falling into place. Well.. almost everything.

"You need to find a costume designer Phil", George said firmly as they collected the papers from the table.

"I know", Phil said with a tired sigh. "It is just so difficult". George opened his mouth, presumably to argue but he was interrupted by a gentle knock on the door. 

"Were we expecting more auditions", he asked with a frown

"No". The person on the other side knocked again with a bit more force and Phil shrugged.

"Come in", he shouted ignoring the incredulous stare from George

"We can always use more extras", he said firmly. The door opened and a woman entered, wearing the strangest outfit he had ever seen. Phil couldn't help but stare at her in shock, he had thought that the outfit he was wearing when he arrived was bizarre but this was something else. The weird necklace around her throat was particularly odd locking. Then he remembered that it was rude to stare and plastered on a smile.

"Hello miss. Are you here for the audition? Phil asked.

"Yes"

"Well I'm sorry but we have already cast all of the big roles. We might just be able to offer you a part as an extra", Phil was bearly paying attention to what his friend was saying. He couldn't stop looking at her outfit. Perhaps she could be the solution to his problem.."

"That's fine. I really need a job"

"Well in that case..."  
  
"Miss", Phil interrupted, ignoring the second incredulous glance he had gotten in the span of a few minutes. "Your outfit.  If you were, hypothetically, in a fight. Would you be able to fight in it"

"I could and I have. Why do you ask",  _Well I'll be damned! She is a badass,_ Phil thought. This stranger could be his savior.

"My movie has two female characters that will do a lot of fighting but every costume designer I have talked to insist on putting them in outfits that a real woman would never wear in a fight"

"Hardly surprising", the woman said with a sardonic smile on her lips. Oh, he liked her. He liked her a lot.  
  
"Maybe you could help me"; he said with a hopeful smile. The woman seemed taken aback by his suggestion. Phil wasn't a religious man but at that moment he found himself praying to whatever higher power that would take the time to listen to a recreational drug addicts prayer. If she didn't agree he would have to go with Dave Spencer, who had drawn the least sexist costume but it had still been pretty damn ridiculous. Sandra's boobs had looked like they were about to pop out at any moment in the rough sketch that he had been presented with. 

"I am not a designer", the woman finally answered after what seemed like an eternity. "But if you have somebody that can draw I am willing to supervise him to make sure that your characters are put in a proper costume". Phil thought that his face would crack from the huge smile that spread over his face. FINALLY. It felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulder. It took all of his efforts to stop himself from jumping up and down in giddy excitement. He had to be a professional. 

"We got a deal then. I'm Phil Gasmer"  
  
"Amaya Jiwe". The world stopped spinning and time froze. Amaya Jiwe. He had heard that name before. But where? He could see George shaking Amaya's hand in the corner of his eye but he felt frozen in place. He was certain that he had heard that name. Somebody had mentioned it to him.  _Amaya was a good friend_ a female voice echoed in his head. He had heard that voice many times before but it couldn't place it. He knew her name but it felt locked away somewhere deep in his brain. Was it Cassandra? No that didn't feel right. Maybe it was Courtney. Courtney sounded better, but Courtney who? Courtney Wallace. No that was dumb. His brain was screaming at him to remember but he just couldn't! Courtney... Courtney Whit...

"Phil!", George's voice went straight through the fog in his brain and snapped him out of his trance. "Amaya doesn't have a place to stay so I have offered our couch. Is that fine"  
  
"Offcourse", Phil said and got a grateful smile in return. George and Amaya started to leave and Phil followed them still deep in thought. That experience had been so weird. It wasn't the first time he had had one of them. They probably meant nothing. Maybe he had just heard the name Amaya from somebody at a party. That was the most logical explanation.  _But what about the voice_ the part of his brain that he hated the most whispered. That was nothing he told himself. Just his imagniation playing tricks on him. Phil took a deep sigh. He really needed to stop taking drugs...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amaya will probably be a bit out of character, I apologize for that.


	8. It's a new place, it's a new life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not satisfied with this chapter at ALL, it was really difficult to write from Amaya's point of view and I felt like I didn't do her justice. But I couldn't continue without explaining why she is here and if felt awkward to do it at the end. So here is a short chapter and I will probably never write from her point of view again.

When Amaya had first joined the legends, she had thought them to be a bunch of irresponsible losers, but over the months she had gradually started to respect them. However, now when she was laying on two stranger's uncomfortable couch, she was really regretting ever boarding their ship. It had all started as an average day, her teammates had argued over who got the bathroom first and then out of nowhere they had been attacked by time pirates. The pirates had managed to blow a hole in their cargo and Amaya had been sucked out into the timestream, she was just lucky that she had been wearing her totem. At first, she had also thought it fortunate that no one had seen her as an eagle due to how that would affect the timeline, but then she had realized that now it would be considerably more difficult for her team to find her. Amaya had decided that she just had to create a time aberration, small enough that her team would notice but not so big that it would take far to much effort to wipe people's memories. It had been by pure coincidence that she had spotted Phil's advertisement, having her name appear in the credits of a movie should be enough to attract attention. A costume designer, or supervisor she supposed, was an even better deal than just being a random extra.

Amaya shifted on the couch. She was grateful that George had offered it to her, but it was extremely uncomfortable and at least ten years old. The fact that the apartment smelled strongly of what she suspected was marijuana didn't help her to fall asleep at all. Amaya sighed and was just about to resign herself to a sleepless night when the orange cat she had spotted earlier jumped up on her couch. It stared at her a while before laying down on her stomach. Amaya smiled ruefully and started petting the cat. Comet and Jonah had been an unexpected but pleasant surprise.

"You are a good kitten aren't you Jonah," Amaya murmured and got contented purring in return. Jonah was such an odd name for a cat, she had mentioned that to George, but he had just shrugged and said that Phil named him. Phil was a strange person in his own right, he seemed kind enough, but she hadn't missed the reaction he had when she introduced herself. He had stared intently at her as if he was desperately trying to remember something. There was definitely something strange about him, and she was determined to figure out what.

....

..

..

The answer became pretty clear the next morning when Phil placed a list of his characters in front of her. One of the characters names was Rip Hunter, and the villain was named Vandal Savage. Amaya knew those names well by now. The legends had told her about the man that had recruited them and the villain they had defeated on multiple occasions. It couldn't be a coincidence. Not when the name of the movie was Legends of Tomorrow. Not when one of the characters was an artificial intelligence named Gideon and especially not when the rest of the characters were tweaked versions of her new team. She glanced at Phil. She had never seen a picture of Rip Hunter, but it had to be him. There couldn't be any other explanation. There was no way that somebody had just randomly created versions of her team. This movie had to be Captian Hunter's way of creating a time aberration so that the legends could find him. She just needed to tell him that she was stranded in time just like him and that she was now a part of his former team.

....

..

..

Amaya's chance came a week later. George was buying groceries, and Rip was absentmindedly watching the television.

"Are you Rip Hunter," Amaya asked carefully as she said down next to him. Rip gave her a look of absolute disbelief before laughing loudly

"Heavens no. What made you believe that I am as cool as him?". He was a good liar. Amaya had to give him that, she would have believed him if she hadn't been so confident that it was him. She just had to find a way to make him trust her.

"It's okay. I am a friend of Sara Lance."

"Who?". Rip stared at her in genuine confusion. Shit. Nobody could fake such confusion no matter how good of a liar he or she was. She had been wrong. This man wasn't Rip Hunter. He was just a run of the mill film student

"Amaya. Is everything all right?".

"I'm fine Phil. Just tired I guess". Phil looked at her with concern in his eyes. It was evident that he didn't believe her, but to her relief, he dropped the issue and just hummed noncommittally. They both settled in awkward silence, and Amaya found herself wishing that George would return so he could interrupt it.

"How did you come up with your characters," she finally asked just to break the silence.

"From my dreams."

"From your dreams?"

"Yes. Whenever I get high, I get these weird hallucinations and dreams. That's when I see them. Rip, Vandal, Gideon, Sandra, and the others. Sometimes they are so incredibly lifelike that it feels like I am right there with them". Amaya glanced at him; maybe she hadn't been wrong after all. She remembered Ray telling her about time drift, a side effect of being stuck in time. That could be what had happened. Maybe this was captain Hunter who had been stranded for too long and didn't remember who he was. Amaya sighed deeply. She would have to wait until the legends arrive to see if her suspicion was correct.

 

 


	9. Now it's nothing more than a forgotten memory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised myself to never write from Amaya's point of view again, but yet here I am; doing it again.
> 
> I went back to watch "The Chicago Way" so that I could double check if any of the actors in Phil's movie were given names (yay for Adam and Peter) and man Arthur Darvill is having a bit too much fun isn't he?

Phil was in a bad mood as he stalked down the aisles in the supermarket. He had had an all-around awful day from start to finish absolutely nothing had gone right. It had started good Eliza, and Brooke was great as Sandra and Kara, and all of the scenes they had together was fantastic. The other actors were perfectly serviceable, but then there were Adam and Peter who could not act to save their lives. Phil had tried to film the scene where Rip and Kara killed Savage, but Adam and Peter kept messing up their lines and the positions they were supposed to be in, and they both blamed each other for it. After an hour of constant failure, Brooke had lost her temper, as she often did and started yelling at her costars. Phil let her; he always did, because while Kara was the most gentle character he had created Brooke Summers was the most intimidating person he had met, period. George once said that her glare could vaporize people, and she was more than happy to use it on everybody who annoyed her. The grin she had given Phil when he asked her if she wanted to be the person in charge of yelling at people had been alarming but seeing people cover in fear was worth it, and it was very effective. Today had been no exception after the lecturing Peter and Adam had pulled their shit together and at least tried to do to something that they thought was acting. They had almost managed to shoot the scene but had he had been interrupted by one of his crew telling him that Frank had somehow fallen right through the fake painting he was going to steal in one scene. If Phil ever filmed a sequel to Legends, he would recast Frank because having the clumsiest person in America on set was a terrible idea. He would specifically ask "Are you clumsy?" to every actor who auditioned because the number of incidents that Frank had managed to cause by tripping over his own feet was astounding. Phil was just grateful that all the fire effects would be added later because otherwise Frank would have burned downed the building. His shift at the hospital hadn't been much better since it was flu season and nobody seemed to be able to aim for the freaking bucket. And to top it all of he had forgotten his keys at the studio, Phil didn't have the energy to go back and get them, and George was home.

"I need a new job," Phil muttered to himself as he threw in the ingredients for a tunnel of fudge into the cart, baking something always made him feel better after a long day. As Phil was picking out the eggs, he saw somebody staring at him from the corner of his eyes. It was an older man with cold grey eyes and a long white scar covering his left cheek, Phil felt as if he had seen him before but couldn't place him. His piercing gaze made Phil feel very uncomfortable, so he quickly moved his way towards the cash register to pay for his stuff. The cashier was a beautiful woman with a radiant smile that made him flush and drops all of his money on the floor. She laughed gently as he quickly handed her the money while stuttering something about butterfingers before quickly shoving his things into bags and fleeing the supermarket with cheeks red from embarrassment. He walked home in a brisk pace contemplating changing stores so he wouldn't have to see her again, but at the same time, she had been stunning. Maybe he could ask her out? No that was stupid. Why would she want to go out with him after he had royally embarrassed himself? No changing stores were safer. Phil had just made it to the alleyway behind his apartment where they threw away their trash when a voice interrupted his walk of shame.

"Captain Hunter"

.....

..

..

Amaya walked towards George and Phil's apartment, George had called her and asked to come over to talk about a possible costume change for Frank since he tripped over the shoelaces. This would be the third time Amaya would have to adjust something on Rick's costume, and she hadn't been able to contain her annoyed groan. Phil's film crew made the legends seem as organized as the JSA had been. She had to create a better time aberration than just her name in the credits of a movie because she was sure was going to be driven insane if she stayed much longer. Amaya pinched the bridge of her nose when she reached the steps of George and Phil's apartment; there was no reason to take out her annoyance on them. They could also annoy her sometimes especially since they refused to stop doing drugs, but they were kind, generous people who had given her a spare key to their apartment despite not knowing her and had been nothing but friendly ever since. Amaya jogged up the steps but froze as she heard the clattering of trashcans and a yelp coming from the alleyway. Somebody was in danger. She had to step in. Amay quietly made her way down the stairs and sneaked towards the alley, she had the element of surprise and wasn't going to waste it.

"I ask again. Where is the spear of destiny?" A low raspy voice filled the void of silence "Is it on the Waverider perhaps?"  
  
"I don't know what that is." Dread filled Amaya; she recognized that voice. It was Phil. 

"That's bullshit. A Captain never leaves his ship." Amaya rounded the corner, a tall man with brown hair was pushing Phil/Rip against the wall and holding a knife to his throat, and there was already a small trail of blood running down his throat. The tears were streaming down his face.

"I am not Captain Hunter; you must have mistaken me with somebody else." He all but sobbed. "Plese let me go. Please"; Amaya couldn't take this anymore, the person she knew might have been Rip Hunter once but he wasn't anymore, he was a scared drug addict that needed her help

"Hey let him go," Amaya demanded, the tug turned around to face her, and she punched him square in the jaw so hard that he stumbled and crashed into the trashcans. When he didn't get up, Amaya turned her attention to Phil who was still standing flat against the wall staring blankly at nothing

"Phil? Are you okay." Phil's stared at her with eyes filled with horror, and he managed to shake his head. "Come on. Let's get you inside". But Phil didn't move; he seemed to be frozen in fear, his gaze kept flicking to the unconscious man on the ground as if he expected him to get up and attack again. Amaya gently took hold of his arm and slung it over her shoulders and gently started coercing Phil towards the door. He wasn't that heavy, so Amaya didn't have to put that much effort into helping him walk. She sent a seething glare at the thug, something he had said still echoed in her head. The Spear of Destiny? Why would he be after something that was made up for a script? Unless... It wasn't made up and was somehow valuable. Great.

.....

..

..

_"You are an idiot"_ _Jonah growled as he angerly poked Rip in the chest. "Why didn't you wait for me."_

_"If I waited for you the hostage would have been killed" Rip answered calmly as he rubbed his throat. The timeline would also have been destroyed, but there was no point in mentioning that detail._

_"Yes, and you almost got killed in the process" Jonah spat out the words his entire body seething with rage._

_"I am aware." Rip was annoyed with himself, he should have been able to handle the situation, and at first, he had. He had leaped in and shot most of the assailants with minimal trouble, but there had been more thugs than he had bullets and suddenly he had found himself pinned down to the ground with a strong pair of hands around his throat. He would have died if Jonah hadn't shown up and shot the man._

_"Does your life matter that little to you?" Rip was taken by surprise by that question; it wasn't as if he was actively trying to get himself killed and he would prefer to survive. But he would give up his life if it meant protecting the timeline like it was expected of him. It was a complicated question, and he couldn't give Jonah an honest answer, so he just shrugged and hoped Jonah would be satisfied by that. He wasn't; the cowboy gave him a long hard stare that burned into Rip and made his cheek feel warm. What an odd sensation._

_"What about the people you would leave behind, the ones that care about you?" Jonah asked with a voice that sounded surprisingly vulnerable._

_"I only have my mother, and she would grieve for a while and then move on." That much was true. Rip knew that Mary loved him just as she loved all of her children and she would be saddened by his passing, but she was strong and would move on. She had plenty of children that needed her. Jonah didn't answer he just looked and Rip squirmed under his intense gaze. It made him nervous for reasons he couldn't comprehend._

_"Thank you for saving my life Jonah" Rip said and got up from the bed. The room was feeling to warm he needed to get to his own and cool down." I should leave"_

_"Fuck it. I'm doing it": Rip couldn't begin to comprehend what he meant by that. Jonah walked across the room with a determined look on his face and before Rip had time to ask him what he was doing Jonah grabbed his face and kissed him. There was a brief moment where Rip contemplated breaking the kiss because this was not allowed by the time masters, but he had wanted this for a long time. What the time masters didn't know couldn't hurt them besides there were no rules against having sex just falling in love. So Rip kissed Jonah back, and it was deep and intense like nothing he had ever experienced before and ......_

And Phil waked up with a jolt. He was used to having intense dreams but this had been something else. He could almost feel the taste of the other man's lips on his. What had been his name? James? Yes. James. Why had he dreamt of kissing somebody dressed as a cowboy instead of having nightmares about the man with the scar that would have killed him if Amaya hadn't shown up? Phil shuddered as he thought about the cold blade pressing against his throat. The scarred man should haunt him, but instead, he could only see this James with his intense eyes that made him feel nostalgic and something he couldn't describe.

Lingering affection for somebody he loved once. 

No that was stupid. Phil didn't even know who the man was; it had just been a nonsense dream that had been much more pleasant than dreaming about a knife to one's throat. None of the attack made any sense at all. The maniac had seemed convinced that he was Rip Hunter and that he possessed the spear of destiny, two things that were figments of his imagination. Why would somebody believe that? Or even know about the stuff he hallucinated about? Had the man heard him at a party and thought that he was telling the truth? That had to be the only logical explanation. This captain Hunter couldn't actually be a real person.

Right?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eliza - Sandra (Sara)  
> Brooke Summers - Kara (Kendra)  
> Frank - Rick (Mick)


	10. I miss my friend. The one my heart and soul confided in

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just two more chapters before they legends crash into Phil!

It was quiet on the Waverider, not a sound could be heard except for the soft humming from the engines. Sara was sitting in the library and was sipping a brandy that she had found underneath the floorboards in Rip's office by pure coincidence. Sara knew that she should be sleeping, but she couldn't calm down not when two of her friends were missing, and they hadn't been able to locate them. It made Sara feel like she was failing as a captain, Amaya had disappeared under her command, and she had been unable to find Rip after six months had passed. Sara had torn through Rip's room and his office after Gideon had been unable to locate Amaya, she was determined to find a clue to his whereabouts because if anybody knew how to find her, it was Rip. In the end, Sara had found nothing, and she had spent an hour destroying her punching bag, feeling furious, sad, frustrated and stupid that she had thought that there would be a clue just lying around somewhere. When Sara had reentered the bridge later, she had found Ray and Jax cleaning up Rip's office and putting everything back in its place with Gideon's help. Ray had beamed at Sara when he noticed her and explained that they would restore Rip's bedroom later because everything should look the same when he returned. Sara didn't know how Ray could stay so optimistic; she had begun to think that they would never find Rip. That he would be lost forever.

Sara missed him, so much that it surprised her. She hadn't realized how important her friendship with Rip had been until he vanished. He could be frustratingly stubborn and was way too prone to keeping secrets, but he had given her a purpose, helped her to deal with her bloodlust and always had faith in her. After they had defeated Savage, she and Rip often had drunk in silence together, occasionally sharing stories about the people they had lost. Amaya was a friend too, and Sara missed her as well, but she had always known that Amaya would return to her timeline, Rip had been the one Sara had been sure would be a constant presence in her life. It was getting frustrating that she couldn't find them, not knowing whether they were dead or alive was grating her nerves. If the were still alive why hadn't they created a time aberration by now? Amaya and Rip were both very intelligent; they should have found a way to get their attention

"Captain?" Gideon's voice dragged Sara out of her sad thoughts. Sara had noticed that Gideon's voice had changed since Rip had disappeared, she hadn't noticed it at first because it was a small change, but Gideon had a hint of sadness to it. Which made perfect sense, Rip had been her captain for fifteen years it was only natural that Gideon would miss him. 

"Yes Gideon"

"Do you remember Captain Eve Baxter?" Sara was surprised at Gideon's question. She did recall Captain Baxter; she hadn't met her personally since she had been busy with freezing to death with Len at the time, but Rip had told her all about his encounter with the captain after the mission. And during one of their drinking sessions, he had mentioned that he wished that Eve had survived the destruction of the vanishing point. But why would Gideon bring her up now?

"Yes, Gideon. I remember her". 

"She has requested permission to come aboard. She sais that Captain Hunter's life is in danger"; Sara's heart nearly skipped a beat at those words. Could it be possible that Eve knew where Rip was? Sara was a bit hesitant to trust a time masters word considering her past experiences with them had been less than pleasant. Yet she also remembered the amount of respect that was present in Rip's voice when he talked about her, and she had provided them with Gideon's upgrade and a tip on Savage's location. And if there was even the slightest chance that Eve knew about Rip's whereabouts, it was worth hearing her out, and if she were a threat, Sara would deal with it. 

"Let her come aboard Gideon; I'll be waiting for her at the bridge."

"Yes, captain." Sara put away her glass and walked towards the bridge in a brisk pace; she was relieved that she was wearing jeans as she doubted that wearing pajamas would impress Eve if she was anything like Rip. The former time master arrived a few moments later, and Sara got a good look at her for the first time, and she didn't hate what she saw. Eve had long brown curly hair with dark brown eyes and was dressed in a pantsuit, she kept her posture straight, held her head high and walked with confidence. Sara liked her already. 

"Captain Baxter," Sara greeted with a polite smile "My name is.."  
  
"I'm looking for Captain Hunter," Eve interrupted brusquely "It's a manner of urgency." Sara gritted her teeth together at the woman's rudeness but felt a pang of disappointment at her words at the same time. She didn't know where Rip was. 

"He's not here," Sara answered while pretending that there wasn't a lump in her throat while she uttered those words.

"Not here?", Eve answered with a voice that was as sharp as knives. "Where is he then?"  
  
"We don't know,"

"You don't know," Eve repeated coldly and gave Sara a murderous glare that even rivaled Laurel's, Sara was certain it had scared the crap out of many foes. She could see why Rip had respected Eve, she might be rude, but she was tough as nails.

"I was hoping you would know his location since you told Gideon his life was in danger."  
  
"He is but not in the present. Somebody will try to murder him as a child tomorrow."

...

..

"How could somebody know where Rip grew up before he arrived at the refugee. I thought those files were classified and they should have been destroyed when we blew up the vanishing point". Martin asked once the team had gathered at the bridge and Sara had filled them in on the situation.

"I'm not sure," Eve admitted. She had been standing perfectly still with her hands clasped behind her back while showing no emotion the entire time during the brief; it reminded Sara of her time in the league of assains. "But that is an issue for later, right now we need to act. If captain Hunter is killed before he is even recruited it would lead to disastrous damage to the timeline. The time masters won't be defeated, and every single one of you would be dead, and those are merely a few examples." 

"Do you think you could help us find Rip or Amaya Jiwe"; Ray asked in his usual jovial voice. "After we save him."  
  
"We shall see what I can do. I will need details after the mission.", Eve replied curtly while giving Mick, who was showing another donut into his mouth an unimpressed and disgusted glare which he naturally noticed.'

"You got a problem lady"; he growled.

"Okay, so when and where are we going," Sara interrupted Eve before she could make an undoubtedly snide remark, the last thing she needed was for a fight to break out. They had more pressing matter at hand. 

...

..

The answer turned out to be London in winter during the peak of the industrial revolution. The sky was black from the thick smoke that was pouring out from the chimneys, and the chilling wind was blowing black snow right into Sara's face. It was freezing outside; the sharp cold air was chilling her down to the bones Mick was rubbing his arms and Ray, and Jax was jumping from foot to foot to keep the warmth up. The only one who didn't seem bothered was Eve who stood perfectly still while the snow melted on her clothes.

"Aren't you cold," she asked Eve.

"No. I have been trained to endure any weather."

"So have I," And it had been a thorough training bu Sara still had her limits, and the cold was starting to get to her too.

"I am aware," Eve's mouth into something that Sara could have sworn was a smile. "But I was trained from the age of thirteen," Sara's stomach dropped at Eve's words, not even the league of assains would train a thirteen-year-old to endure any weather they didn't believe that children had the mental capacity to endure such experience

"How did they train you"; Sara asked, her throat felt as dry as sandpaper, and she dreaded the answer

"They left us for days at a time in extreme weather conditions until we learned how to survive a weak in any weather and any terrain"; Eve said in an almost bored voice as if she was discussing what to eat to dinner. "I finished first of everyone in my class, including Rip," she added with a smirk. Sara felt as if though somebody had punched her hard in the gut and knocked the wind out of her. She had always suspected that Rip didn't have a happy childhood with the time masters, but hearing what Sara suspected was merely a small part of the child abuse that Rip, Eve, Miranda and God knew how many more children made her want to blow them up again on an endless loop. Sara realized that everything had gone quiet around her and Eve, Ray and Jax had stopped moving and were both staring at Eve with a mixture of horror and sadness on their faces. But Sara's gaze was fixed on Mick, who was clenching his fist, and his eyes were blazing fury and rage. 

"There is time master Druce," Eve suddenly said bringing everybody back to reality as she pointed to a figure across the street. Eve's fingers made a seemingly involuntary twitch towards the gun she had hidden under her jacket, and her mask fell for a few seconds, and Sara recognized the look of devastation eyes. Rip had had the same look when he realized that the time masters had betrayed him. 

"Yes that's the pig alright," Mick said his voice vibrating with anger. "Let's burn him,"

"No. No he needs to recruit Rip", Eve said her voice shaking slightly, she took a deep breath and regained her former calm composure. "Who has finally arrived on the scene.  
  
"Whare?", Jax asked confused. "I don't see him." But Sara had noticed the small child who was weaving in and out of the crowd.  _Oh god is that Rip?_ Sara couldn't see his face properly since she was standing too far away, but no amount of distance could hide how sickly thin he was or how much he was shivering underneath the coat that was far to thin to be worn in such weather. Sara had known that Rip had been a cutpurse, an orphan living on the streets but that didn't make seeing it for real hurt any less. None of London's many citizens seemed to notice Rip and those who did quickly looked away.  _How could they ignore him?_ Rip breezed past time master Douche, and Sara almost missed his hand slipping in and out of his pocket. Douche did and grabbed Rip's arms and forcefully spun him around. Rip acted faster than a striking snake, his free hand slipped into his pocket, and in a matter of seconds, he had sliced douche's arm. Sara couldn't hear what happened, but the action seemed to have either hurt or surprised the douche for Rip managed to wrench out of his grip and started to run away. Mick laughed triumphantly and muttered something about the pig deserving it and that he hoped it had hurt. Sara agreed with all her heart but then her gaze fell on the tall man who was following the quickly disappearing Rip in a brisk. She sent Eve a questioning look, and she nodded in response, that was their target. Sara gestured for the team to follow their team, and they all quickly started to run the man who had started running. The chase was a hectic one, as the sprinted through an array of seemingly never-ending narrow alleyways. The man was faster than Sara had anticipated, he was somehow able to be a few feet ahead of her no matter how fast she ran. Then he abruptly skidded to a halt, Sara could hear the sounds of a child coughing violently.

"Pneumonia is annoying isn't it." The was holding a gun in his hand and was pointing it at what Sara assumed was baby Rip; she couldn't see him properly. "But don't worry, I will make it go away" A gunshot rang out and echoed against the walls, the man howled in pain as the bullet went right through his hand and the gun clattered to the ground. 

"That was awesome"; Ray whispered as he stared at Eve as she lovered the gun with something that could only be described as hero worship in his eyes.

"Why is it, that every time I try to kill or hurt Captain Hunter. Somebody is trying to save him", The man was clutching his bleeding hand as he stared at them his grey eyes blazing with rage Sara noticed the scar that was covering his left cheek. 

"What do you mean"; she damnded. When the creep didn't answer Sara punched him hard in the gut, and he collapsed unto the ground. "Answer me." The man sneered at her and then his eyes widened and he let out a small breath of air before collapsing to the ground, the handle of a knife sticking out of his back. Rip was standing behind him his tiny body shaking from either fear or the cold weather.  _Oh god._ He was dirty, sickly pale and seemingly made of nothing but skin and bones. He looked at them with a guarded look in his eyes as he yanked out the knife from his would-be murderer's back without even grimacing. Sara's heart broke for Rip as she wondered how old he had been when he had killed for the first time, certainly younger than her. Rip gave them another look before quickly disappearing. 

"We should go. Time master Druce will be here any moment to recruit him"; Eve said and started walking away. Mick pulled out his heat gun, and before Sara could stop him, he had lit the corpse on fire.  
  
"At least I got to roast one child murdering pig"; he growled.

...

..

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't find miss. Jiwe or Captain Hunter anywhere in the timeline." Sara tried very hard to hide her dissapointment but judging by the suprsingly gentle smile Eve gave her it wans't working. How was she going to find Amaya or Rip if a former time master couldn't?

"Thank you for trying"  
  
"I should go back to my ship. There are time aberrations that require my attention."  

"It was nice meeting you captain Baxter." Eve nodded politely and gave Sara a small smile before leaving, but she stopped in the doorway to the bridge. "Look. I know that it's hard for you to accept, but I don't think you are going to locate Captain Hunter. There is a chance for Miss. Jiwe but a captain never abandons his or her ship, especially not for so long unless they are dead." And with that Eve walked away leaving Sara alone on the bridge with unshead tears in her eyes and unable to shake the horrible feeling that Eve was right and she had lost another friend.

"Captain, I have good news. I have managed to locate Miss. Jiwe:"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My headcanon is that Rip was born sometime during the industrial revolution and yes I am calling Druce douche on purpose because I am very immature.


	11. I'll be there for you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did some research, and in the comics, Rip had a girlfriend named Bonnie Baxter (I recognize that last name Legends writers), so I decided to name Rip's date Bonnie.

"I'm going out on a date Saturday night," George dropped his spoon into his bowl at Phil's words which caused the soup to splatter all over the table and a bit on George himself. Phil calmly gave him a napkin, and George quickly cleaned his face before trying his best to glare at Phil while his cheeks were still red from embarrassment. Phil didn't seem to notice George's glare; he was smiling, no practically beaming and his eyes were glowing with the excitement. He must have worked up the courage to ask the cashier he wouldn't stop talking about, probably thanks to Eliza who had accompanied Phil to the store after his shift ended. George wanted to be happy for Phil's sake. Two weeks prior George wouldn't have thought twice about Phil going out on a date, he would have been thrilled to see his best friend so happy, but after Phil had almost been murdered outside their apartment, George was terrified of letting him go out alone. Phil still had a thin white scar on his throat after the encounter, George shuddered when he thought about what would have happened if Amaya hadn't been there to save him. George hadn't left Phil out of his sight since it happened, he had made sure that somebody had been with him at all times because what if it happened again. He knew that it annoyed Phil since he wanted nothing but to move on and forget it ever happened, but George couldn't help it. His best friend had almost died, and that wasn't something he was going to let go.

"George, come on," Phil's smile had dimmed a bit during George's silence. "We are just going out to see a movie and then grab a quick bite, nothing else." 

"Something could still happen in that time"; George exclaimed feeling extremely frustrated, why was Phil so unwilling to take care of himself, it was truly mind-boggling."Let me or Amaya follow you from a distance. I don't want you to get attacked again."  
  
"I know George, but this is a date. I can't relax if I know that you are there, sitting in a corner and worrying about me. Besides, you are going to have to let me go outside alone sometimes. You can't follow me around forever." Phil put his hand over George's and squeezed it gently "I'll be careful, I promise."

...

..

"I can't believe that I let you talk me into this. I have better things to do", Brooke grumbled as she angerly chewed on some popcorn, she was the only person George knew who could look menacing while eating popcorn.

"Come on Brooke don't be a killjoy. Stalking Phil and his cute date will be fun", Eliza had her feet propped up on the seat in front of her and was throwing her popcorn into the air, trying and failing to catch it with her mouth. George felt guilty as he sat in the back of the movie theatre it felt wrong to invade Phi's privacy and, as Amaya had pointed out, he was ignoring Phil's wishes. But he couldn't help but worry, and he was not the only one since both Brooke and Eliza had given up their Saturday night to watch in Brooke's own words "a trash cowboy flick." 

"Here they are"; Eliza whispered and they all sunk deeper in their seats hoping that the pair wouldn't see them, they were supposed to stare straight ahead so neither of them accidentally locked eyes with Phil, but George's curiosity got the better of him. Phil had talked endlessly about Bonnie from the supermarket never shutting up about how beautiful, smart and funny she was so he had to take a quick peek. George couldn't see much of her since he was sitting in an unfortunate situation, but the much described red hair was visible even from a distance, and they seemed to be walking arm in arm. So things were going well, that was a bit unexpected Phil was sometimes downright awful at interacting with other people. George still hadn't forgotten how embarrassing he had acted the first time they met Amaya.   
The film itself was not awful; it was called The good, the bad and the ugly and was rather enjoyable with a kickass soundtrack to boost, and George found himself being sucked into the movie. Brooke seemed to wholeheartedly disagree with him as she muttered finally when the credits started rolling but then again she had never been a fan of western movies. The three of them bolted up from their seats when they noticed that people were starting to get up from their seats and they didn't stop walking until there was a block between them and the movie theatre. Phil and Bonnie exited a few minutes later and started walking towards them, their arms linked together. Eliza grabbed George's arm and yanked him back rather forcefully so that he stumbled into the bushes behind him. It wasn't the first time George had fell into the bushes, but the last time he had done it he had been to frunk to be embarrassed by it, and Eliza and Brooke hadn't seen it. Now they were going to tease him for it for as long as he lived. The plan worked Phil and Bonnie walked past them without noticing them, Bonnie was gesturing with her hands as she talked about the movie in an excited voice and Phil was laughing a lot which made George feel even guiltier over invading his friends' privacy than he had before. George contemplated going home and leaving them be, but the scar of Phil's throat still haunted him. So George got up and brushed away the leaves from his hair and clothes before following Phil and Bonnie from a safe distance constantly expecting somebody would attack. But nobody did, the only thing that happened was Bonnie kissing Phil before they parted ways to go their separate ways home.   
  
"Well done Phil," Brooke said her voice filled by amusement

"Yeah. He scored a babe", George didn't say anything, he felt slightly dirty over having watched such an intimate moment which was stupid because if the date had gone so well that they had already kissed he was probably going to meet Bonnie in the foreseeable future. It still felt wrong since Phil didn't know that George, Brooke, and Eliza was there and George knew that he couldn't follow them on every date, but he was going to keep a close eye on Phil for a while longer. Just in case.

...

..

Phil walked home at a faster pace than he had used to do, he had stopped walking in his normal speed ever since some crazy psychopath had attacked him with a knife while accusing him of being one of his fictional characters. The memory still plagued Phil's mind even if he liked to pretend it didn't. The police had told Phil that his attacker had merely been a crazy person but if that was the case, why did he bring up things that Phil had dreamt about and written in his script? Was it possible that two people had the same drug-induced dream and that Mr. Knife had believed in what he saw? That had to be it because no other scenario made sense to Phil. The date with Bonnie had done a lot do distract Phil, he still couldn't quite believe that she had agreed to go on a date with him. Bonnie was stunning, fiercely intelligent and her puns were funny which was more than Phil could say about the puns he came up with. They even had a few things in common, they both enjoyed movies, had similar taste in drugs, had a job they couldn't wait to quit from. And Bonnie liked cats, which was a massive bonus to Phil since he wanted to introduce her to Comet and Jonah. Phil had to admit that thinking about bringing her home and introduce her to his pets were thinking far ahead, but Phil liked Bonnie a lot. Kissing her had been nice and sweet, but a part of him had felt guilty, and he had briefly thought to himself that he was moving on to fast. Which, like many things that had happened in his life recently, made no sense. Phil hadn't dated anybody in years and none of his relationships had lasted very long and been very serious, there was nothing to move on from or feel guilty about. He was just silly and reading to much into a simple kiss. 

 


	12. Help

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not dead!  
> Do I love time jumps? Yes! Am I ignoring the legends continuity and timeline? Absolutely. Am I changing how the time sphere works and giving it fancy upgrades, so it suits my story? You better believe it. Sue me, cause I regret nothing

Phil was terrified. He had never so afraid in his entire life before. Phil had woken up that morning, excited and nervous because his movie was going to be released to movie theaters and he had been worried that people wouldn't like it and laugh at him. That hadn't happened, he had squeezed Bonnie's hand during the entire premiere, but the audience seemed to have enjoyed it. Phil had exited the theater feeling high, not on drugs but joy and life. Everything was finally working out for him he had everything one could wish for; a wonderful girlfriend, an amazing best friend, many other friends and a completed movie, and Phil finally felt like his life wasn't missing anything. He had felt fulfilled. Phil had stepped out form the premier after party the cast and crew had surprised him with for some fresh air, and that was when everything had gone so wrong. Phil had heard a wooshing sound and briefly seen something red before everything had gone black, he had woken up tied to a chair in a cold room where a sharp blue light was blinding him. The following hours had been a nightmare, except this time, he couldn't wake up from it because everything that was happening was real. Three people that he had never seen before had all been convinced that Phil somehow was Rip, the fictional character he had created and that his broken piece of wood truly could change reality. They were like the man with the scar but much worse, and this time, there was no Amaya that could save him as they hurt him because they wanted answers to their questions.

Answers Phil couldn't give because he was not Rip Hunter and he knew nothing about magical spears or the "legends" and especially not time travel. Phil had in a brief moment of clarity found it absurd to imagine that anyone could believe such a thing, but ever since they took him to the future he didn't know what to think anymore or what was real or not. Time travel was reserved for movies, and it made no logical sense that it should exist, yet he had been at the bank that had technology he didn't understand, nor knew how to use and people had been killed for it. Phil saw the bodies every time he closed his eyes, new nightmares to replace the old ones that had finally disappeared. Burning cities and strange hawk people would be replaced with lasers, banks, and red blurs. Phil had given up on trying to convince his captors that he wasn't Rip Hunter, it was a fruitless endeavor. Instead, he had tried to figure out a way to escape, Phil had spent however many hours that had passed paralyzed with fear, his entire body hurt but he had still been able to pick up on the dynamics of the violent trio of psychopaths even if he was too frightened to remember their names. They didn't trust each other, and it was clear to see that the sword people were frustrated with speedy and the way he treated them. Phil had acted on his hunch when they had been busy trying to murder each other, blabbering out the plot of his favorite movie to try to get them to turn on their leader because films were the only thing Phil knew no matter what crazy murderers believed. 

And his knowledge had saved him because they had left and Phil was finally alone and free to try to loosen his ropes, Phil had expected to be terrible at it since he fumbled with most things, but this time his hands were almost working on their own without his brains help. It was if though they were acting on muscle memory, which was a ridiculous notion because Phil had never been tied to a chair before. He wasn't Rip Hunter. He couldn't be. He didn't want to be. He refused to be. He liked being Phil. Phil sat in the dark, his heart beating loudly in his ears as he drew short, panicked breaths. He could break free, but he wasn't sure if he should. Speedy could return at any moment and undo his hard work faster than he could blink, but if Phil waited for too long, the other two could come back, and kill him. What had Phil done to deserve ending up in this situation? He didn't know what to do and desperately wished that someone would save him or at least tell him what to do. Should he free himself or wait for speedy and hope for the best? Phil didn't get much time to contemplate what he should do before a familiar red blur entered the room and suddenly speedy was leaning imposingly over him, and Phil involuntary flinched in fear.

"Where are Dhark and Merlyn," he demanded in a low, threatening voice, his gaze was fixed on Phil, and he didn't seem to notice that the ropes that tied his hands to the chair had been loosened. 

"They went back to the bank"; Phil whispered his voice hoarse from screaming "They weren't happy that you were treating them like minions."  _Please leave, please leave, please leave._ Phil held his breath while his captor stared at him for what seemed like an eternity before he disappeared from the room. He was gone. Phil was alone. He allowed himself to draw a desperate breath of relief before he finally freed himself from the chair and clumsily stumbled into the other room his legs shaking like asp leaves. Phil tried to ignore the stacks of weapons and alien technology that seemed to litter the place as his eyes scanned for an exit. He spotted a door and mustered enough strength to run across the room and try the handle. It was locked because, of course, it was.

Phil tried to break the door down with his shoulder like he had seen people do plenty of times in movies, Phil screamed out in pain as his shoulder hit what felt like pure concrete, probably shattering into a million pieces. Or so it felt like as his vision temporarily went black from the pain and hot tears fell down his face. He was trapped. Phil had gotten out of the chair, but now he was stuck, the building had no windows or any means of escape, and he didn't know how to use any of the weapons. Not that he would be fast enough to use them on speedy. Phil should give up, but a strange part of his brain refused to let him do so.  _You can always escape a situation; you must find a new angle._ The voice seemed familiar, but Phil couldn't place it, nor did he have time to ponder on it. The only thing to do was try to follow his advice.

His gaze fell on a strangely shaped object that almost looked like a flashlight and something that was vaguely resembling of an amulet, both items seemed oddly familiar, so Phil grabbed them both and slid them into his pockets because familiarity was something he desperately needed even though he didn't know why he connected with them. He also grabbed a gun that looked futuristic and didn't seem to require bullets to work because he could at least try to defend himself. Then his gaze fell on the round glass, ball thing that was at the end of the room. Phil had overheard his captors argue about something they called the time sphere and how it was an inefficient way to time travel. The ball thingy had to be the sphere and Phil could use it to escape. Somehow. 

Phil managed to find a way into the sphere without much trouble, his body once again, seemingly working without him, but once he was inside, he was utterly lost. Phil had no idea what to do next, but there had to be an invisible button he could press or something. He placed his hand on the glass, trying to locate a switch when suddenly a green light lit up under the palm of his hand.

"Identity confirmed. Good evening Captain, it's good to see you again." Phil yelped in surprise over the sudden appearance of the female-sounding voice that seemed to be nowhere yet everywhere at once. What was happening? Had he passed out when he crashed against the door, and this was all some hallucination or had he gone mad and was starting to hear voices?

"I have finally lost it," he whispered to himself, "I have gone insane."

"I can assure you that you have not gone insane, Captain Hunter."

"Don't call me that," Phil yelled in anger and frustration; he was so tired of this bullshit. "I am NOT Rip Hunter, and I'm tired of everybody thinking that I am and hurting me for it. I am Phil Gasmer, and I'm not a time traveler. I'm just a film student, and I don't want to be in the future anymore. I want to go home. Please. I don't know who you are or if you are even real, but if you are real, please help me. Please," Phil anger faded out during his rant, and he all but sobbed out the last words, the tears streaming down his face.

"I can assure you that I am real, Mr. Gasmer. My name is Gideon; I am a replica of the artificial intelligence that exists on the timeship the Waverider", _Gideon_. That was the name of the artificial intelligence in his movie if Phi hadn't been so distressed he would have pondered on that fact, but he didn't even notice that Gideon seemed to be sad when she spoke to him. "And don't worry, I will help you come home."

"Really?" Phil whispered, he found himself desperately wanting to trust this artificial intelligence that he had never met before. Her voice made him feel grounded and calm, almost as if he was talking to Bonnie or George, which was weird because he didn't know her. She wasn't even a person, just a computer that belonged to the person who was the reason behind all the hurt he had been put through. 

"Of course. That's my purpose" It didn't make any sense to blindly trust anyone at this point, but something about Gideon made him feel like she wouldn't betray him, so Phil took a deep breath. 

"Alright. Teach me how to travel back to 1967 Gideon."

 

* * *

 

It turned out that time travel included a lot of buttons on a glowing keyboard that had popped up on the glass of the sphere making Phil yelp in surprise again. The magical keyboard and Gideon had been a unique feature that Hunter had installed and nobody, but he knew about not even speedy, whose name was Thawne according to Gideon. Gideon was very patient with Phil as he fumbled through making the sphere ready for takeoff; she never once reprimanded him for making a mistake and even showed him how to make the sphere invisible, but Phil couldn't help but feel anxious. His captors could return at any minute, and the sphere might be hidden, but it was still in the room, and they could bump into it without much trouble. He tried to keep himself occupied by chatting mindlessly with Gideon about how being in the future was pretty radical despite the terrible circumstances that had brought him there, but although she was polite every time she answered, Phil, noticed the trace of sadness lingering in her voice. He wondered if it had to do with Rip, did she believe he was him as well and was disappointed that he wasn't? Could an A.I even feel disappointment or any other emotions? Phil was brought of his thoughts by the door slamming open, and he saw to his horror that all three of his captors entering. His plan hadn't worked, they hadn't been turned on each other, and he was still stuck there. The blonde one was staring right at him, and even tough Phil knew that he was invisible he couldn't help but hold his breath. His heart was beating hard in his chest, and he found it immensely difficult to breathe. All of his efforts had been for nothing; they would find him, drag him out of his hiding place and probably hurt him again. Phil's heart was beating so loudly that his ears were ringing and the sound drowned out the other's voices. He didn't know what they were saying, or what the round high tech looking thing Thawne was holding was supposed to be. He only knew that he was doomed.

"It's alright Mr. Gasmer," Gideon's soothing voice made him flinch, he had been so distraught that he had forgotten that she was there. "I have to do one more thing, and then we can leave." Phil didn't have time to ask what she meant by that before one of the now familiar lasers burst through the room shattering the round glowy thing that Thawne had been holding in his hands. Gideon continued to fire at the trio as the sphere lifted off the ground and Phil had bearly any time to react to the fact that he was flying before the sphere crashed through the door and burst into the sky. Phil would have drawn a sigh of relief, but the sight of what looked like a mixture between green jello and somebody's vomit that had been struck by lightning did nothing to calm him down.

"Gideon, what is this?"

"The time stream Mr. Gasmer.",  

"I'm not even going to bother to ask what that means since I probably won't understand anything," Phil said with a sigh. "I'll just assume that it's necessary to bring me home."  
  
"Yes." Gideon almost sounded heartbroken, but Phil didn't ask why. Maybe he should, but he felt too mentally exhausted to care about anything but getting home. It felt selfish, but his entire worldview had been shattered, there was not a single muscle in his body that wasn't hurting, he could Phil a headache starting to form and there was a sharp pain in his side that he hadn't noticed until now. Or maybe he had and had simply been in too much stress to care about it. He probably needed to go to a hospital as soon as he arrived, Phil didn't know how to explain his injuries to them or Bonnie and George for that matter. They would think that he had gone crazy. Phil massaged his temples in a fruitless attempt to ease his pounding headache; he would come up with an excuse when he could think more clearly and wasn't so exhausted. Phil leaned his head against the heard glass; he didn't dare to close his eyes, so he stared numbly at nothing in particular as he sore through the green jello letting the silence give him a small sense of comfort. Gideon occasionally asked if he was alright, and every time she asked, he would lie and say that he was fine. He could tell that she didn't believe him, but Phil didn't want to talk about anything. He just wanted to go home and somehow forget everything.

* * *

 

They eventually exited the time stream, Phil didn't know if he had been flying through it for hours, weeks or days but he didn't care anymore. The sight of Los Angeles filled him with relief; he had made it. He was finally home.

"Thank you, Gideon," Phil whispered, hoping that she could hear how grateful he felt that she had helped him. "Thank you for helping me and guiding me through this even though I am a complete stranger to you."  
  
"No need to say thank you," Gideon answered softly. 

"I'm doing it, anyway."

"You're welcome," Phil managed to smile a little at that, she didn't sound sad for the first time which he considered a success. He was going to ask Gideon if she could drop him off close to the nearest hospital, but he noticed that she was already flying in that direction. She was truly an extraordinary invention, and very similar to the Gideon in his script but different at the same time. Maybe that was why he had trusted her so quickly. Gideon carefully landed in a bush a few feet away from the hospital, and soon as the sphere touched the ground, Phil felt a wave of nausea hit him. He managed to squeeze something he hoped sounded like a final thank you before he scrambled out of the sphere and even managed to exit the bush before he threw up on the ground. Thawne and company hadn't given him any food, so nothing came out except bile, but Phil couldn't stop puking anyways. He could only hope that somebody saw him and went to get help because he wasn't sure he was going to be able to get to the hospital by himself. He didn't have any energy left. He heard rather than saw somebody crouch in front of him and Phil prayed that it was a nurse.

"Yo. I was forced to come over to check if you are okay. So are you okay?" a gruff voice said Phil thought he had heard before, but his brain was too jumbled to be able to place it. Phil briefly looked up from the ground to meet the stranger's eyes. He looked a tad familiar and judging by the man's shocked expression he recognized Phil as well. Maybe they had met at new years party, that was a thought that made Phil flush in embarrassment. He tended to get very drunk on those parties, and he was always embarrassing himself when he was drunk. Why did the world have to be so small?

"Not really. I have just been mugged", Phil opted to answer his question and lie about why he was collapsed on the ground instead of bringing up that he might now the huge muscular man in front of him. "Could you help me to the hospital?" The man stared at him, intently for a few seconds, which made Phil shift a little. Was he trying to burn a hole into his skull?

"English?" the man finally asked after a tense silence

"Yes," Phil answered, feeling very confused by the random question. "I speak English."  
  
"Crap." The man stared at him for a few more seconds then suddenly his fist was in Phil's face, and the world went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why do I only get inspiration to write this fic in the middle of the damn night?


End file.
